Mother Loves You
by Witchy Bee
Summary: AU: Cicero heard plenty of voices, but never hers. Until now. The Listener is in danger and he has been chosen by the Night Mother for this special task!
1. Voices: A Poem

Her voice came to him in the dark, silent hours after the dead had all gone cold.

Cicero wanted it to be real. He prayed and prayed. . .

His pleas went unheard. He laughed and laughed. . .

The voice said Mother loved him.

Cicero listened. But he could never listen hard enough.

The voice he heard was never the _right _one.

It never spoke the secret words.

_Secret, secret, mustn't tell a soul! Cicero will tell no one, Mother!_

Speak, speak, but no one hears. . .

In the dark, with the dead and quiet ghosts, he cried and cried.


	2. Fools

**A/N:** Right, so I thought this was over, but inspiration struck again, if very briefly. I think I may have established some co-dependency here between Cicero and the Night Mother...Anyway, review? Please?

)O(

The Night Mother's dead eyes watched her poor child as he tended to her body which sheltered her eternal spirit. He did so with the utmost love and care. Yes, Cicero was a good Keeper, and it really was a shame that she could never thank him for his unceasing devotion. But her Listener was somewhere out there, very near. It wouldn't be long now, not long at all.

"Oh Mother, dear Mother, Cicero is so very sorry he has not found your Listener yet! But I will, I swear I will! That is, if you still do not speak...to Cicero?"

Without question, his soul belonged to her and the Dread Father, but his mind...that part now belonged to Sheogorath, Prince of Madness, the Sithis-shaped hole in the world. And who would listen to a madman claiming he heard the Night Mother's voice? Even with the words, who could remember? That may have sufficed two hundred years ago, but not today. Her children had strayed so far from the old ways.

"Are you happy here, Mother?" He paused, awaiting a response, then frowned and continued. "Cicero does not like it. They claim to be Dark Brotherhood, yet they dare to question the importance of a Listener! They disrespect you, my Mother, all of them! Fools!"

_No, Cicero, not all of them. Not for much longer._ _Soon it will be over; this burden will not be yours alone._

The jester had trailed off into manic laughter. Switching from bloodthirsty rage to merriment in less than a second.

"Fools! Fools!" he sang, grinning. But there were tears in his eyes. They gleamed.

_Indeed, my child. Mother loves you.  
><em>


	3. Listen

Cicero didn't really want to hurt the lizard, oh no, but he had to make them _see_. Mother was supposed to lead the Brotherhood not that...that traitor Astrid! He would have gutted her if given the chance. But there had been no chance, so he fled to the abandoned Dawnstar Sanctuary: _his_ Sanctuary. The wolf followed. He was practically asking for it, that man who loved Astrid.

Oh, but the wolf had claws. By the time his Listener found him, Cicero knew he was too weak from blood loss to fight her. So he begged her forgiveness, begged her to turn around and lie. Time was what he needed, only a little time.

"Do what you will," the Keeper wheezed, gritting his teeth in pain. "Cicero has no fight left. In the end, Sithis will judge us both."

He expected a knife in the heart. Or maybe, if very fortunate, nothing at all. But the Listener did not go, not at first, not at all; she knelt down and healed poor Cicero with magic spells. Then she left him. Alone. With the silence. It was good silence this time: the silence of not being dead.

The Listener _had_ always been kind to poor Cicero, ever since that day on the road...

He would serve her when all this ended, and to the end of his life until he too served Sithis in the Void.

)OI

It wasn't often the Sanctuary sat down to a Family dinner, but they were few now, and everyone was anxiously awaiting the return of their Listener.

Cicero could sense the seriousness in the air lately. So he told a joke and laughed and laughed, but no one else was laughing, and Nazir glared from across the table. The Redguard didn't like Cicero's dancing either. No fun, no fun at all!

The Listener often went out for days at a time, even weeks. But months and months? Never! Something must be dreadfully wrong indeed!

"Where is the Listener? Where has she gone?" Cicero wailed. "Without her, the silence returns! There is no one to hear the words of our dear Night Mother!"

"By Sithis, here we go again..." Nazir groaned, opting to focus his attention on his meal.

"Calm down, Cicero," Babette said. "She's probably just busy being amazing and lost track of time."

"Aaargh...that's what you said two weeks ago!"

"All right, we're all concerned," the vampire admitted, rising from her seat in one quick motion. "But your usual madness isn't going to help find her, okay?"

"Fine, fine! Cicero understands." The jester nodded glumly, then stood up as well and left to tend to Mother. Later that night, while doing just that, he heard a voice. _Her_ voice.

_My child..._

"Could it be?" he whispered into the candlelit room. "Cicero is so very tired. Is this just a trick of the mind? Or is it...Mother? Say something else, please! Let Cicero hear you!"

_You must listen, Cicero. Listen carefully._

"Of course! Oh, of course! But...how? There can be only _one_ Listener!"

_I know._ _The Listener is in grave danger._ _Heed my words, child. Focus._

"Cicero lives to serve, dear Mother.I... Danger, you say? Who would harm the great Listener?_"_

_You have traveled with her. Surely you know the answer to that question._

"Yes...that's true. Tell Cicero what must be done, sweet Mother, and it shall be._"_

And he listened.

)O(

Cicero ran from the Night Mother to the sleeping quarters as fast as he could, nearly falling down the stairs in doing so. Although neither Nazir or Babette were asleep. This was due to vampirism in Babette's case, and for Nazir, the odd hours assassins generally kept. However, some of the new recruits were woken from dreams of murder by the jester's urgent screaming.

"Mother has spoken! To me!"

"What is going on?" Nazir demanded.

"Cicero has been chosen, don't you see? For a special task! Haha, oh yes!"

"I could give him a mild sedative," Babette offered. "Something to take the edge off the excitement."

"No, we need him as alert as possible if we're going to make sense of all this. Cicero?"

"Hmm?" the Keeper flashed a loopy grin.

"Are you _sure _the Night Mother spoke to you? What exactly did she say?"

"Oh! Well, she said..." What had Mother said? _Focus_. "The Listener is in grave danger! Cicero must find her. Before it's too late!"

"Arden is in danger?" Now even Babette looked worried.

"Yes! I will leave right now, but someone must tend to Mother's body while Cicero is away!"

Nazir watched the pleading little man and felt a twinge of the same pity Arden felt when she'd seen Cicero wounded here in this very Sanctuary. He'd given his blade, his life and his sanity in service of the Night Mother and her children, especially the Listener. Maybe it was merely part of his madness again, but there was not much that could take him away from the sacred duties of a Keeper. He must be truly certain...

"I'll look after her. Don't worry." the Redguard said.


	4. Alone

Let's see...where would someone who wished to harm the Listener be? Why, with the Listener. And where would the Listener be? Withe the Night Mother, of course! But...no. No, that wasn't right. She wasn't here and that was the problem. Someone or possibly something wished to harm her, and she was somewhere out there. . .

And Cicero wasn't with her. How could he protect her if he wasn't there? Not that she needed protecting most of the time. But Mother insisted, and actually spoke to Cicero, not the Listener. This situation was very grave indeed.

After a search of the Listener's room, Babette ostensibly found no clues regarding her whereabouts or any apparent threat toward her.

"She mentioned something once about a house she owned in Whiterun," the un-child said. "You may want to start the search there. Ask around, and try not to leave too much of a body trail, would you?"

"Cicero will be extremely...polite," the jester beamed. He turned to Nazir and grew serious. Well, as serious as a madman might. "You've read the tomes I gave you? Good, very good! Then you know Mother requires a weekly oiling. You must be thorough, you see, for her body is the vessel through which our Unholy Matron's eternal spirit guides us! Although..." He lowered his voice, frowning. "...no one can hear her now. She has not spoken to sweet Cicero again."

"And that's why we're trusting you to find Arden." Babette said, despite the fact that neither herself nor Nazir completely trusted Cicero to do anything besides kill and faithfully look after an ancient dead woman who tormented him with her silence and fleeting words.

"I suggest you take her horse." the Redguard added. "Shadowmere can get you to Whiterun faster than any other steed in Tamriel. I think he...senses the importance of this task."

Cicero nodded and bid them both farewell. He'd ridden the Void-spawned horse before, but only in the Listener's company. Arden, he corrected himself, knowing he had to stop thinking of her solely as his Listener, especially since he was going to Whiterun. Arden had evidently built a life there and he must respect that.

It took a raw rabbit's leg and some urgent explanation of the Night Mother's orders to coax Shadowmere into action. Hooves pounded away on what was virtually permanent snow in Dawnstar. The Throat of the World loomed off in the distance. Cicero laughed.

Eventually they stopped to make camp for the night. He couldn't help feeling that it was a waste of time while Arden remained in danger. Still, killing a wolf for Shadowmere's dinner and also as a reward for the horse's effort and patience distracted Cicero from such thoughts. Then. . .

Silence. Silence in the night; silence in his head. Mother spoke no more.

)O(

At last they reached the city. Cicero remembered it; he'd remarked to the Listener of his desire for a new dagger made of fine Skyforge steel. But there wasn't time for personal errands. He was on a mission!

"That's a fine horse you've got there," remarked the man at the stable. He went to stroke Shadowmere's mane, but the look in those ruby red eyes made him think twice. The look said that this horse was no simple domesticated animal, and one should count themselves fortunate to ride him and survive.

"Thank you. I'm borrowing it," Cicero smiled. "Say, would you happen to know where Arden's house is?"

"Arden? You mean the Thane? Slayer of dragons?"

"Ooh, yes! That sounds like the one."

Breezehome, the man informed, with a note of envy in his voice. It turned out to be a small house. Cicero picked the lock under cover of darkness and slipped inside. He was met with a warm fire, and moved about silently in what little shadow remained. Weapons lined the walls in racks for display, most of them very unusual and compelling.

He didn't know what to look for. He scanned the well-stocked bookshelves, but found nothing strange there, nor anywhere else he looked. It was still difficult to accept that the Listener lived in the Sanctuary, while Arden lived here. Who was she, exactly? Did Cicero even know her?

The assassin sensed there was an arrow aimed at the back of his skull moments before a woman's voice shouted "Intruder!" He drew his dagger, and in one swift motion had it lightly pressed to her throat. Both bow and arrow fell to the floor.

"You're not Arden," Cicero accused. "You are the intruder!"

"I'm her housecarl," the woman snapped. "Appointed by the Jarl to protect and serve her until my dying breath." That nearly was her dying breath.

"Then you have failed!"

"What? Who are you? Are you going to kill me or not?"

Cicero thought a moment, then put the blade away, deciding she might be useful. After all, she did know Arden.

"I am Cicero, the Fool of Hearts!"

"Well then, my name's Lydia." the Nord said, surprisingly polite considering they'd almost tried to kill one another minutes before. "And you are a friend of my Thane?"

"Indeed, we are the best of friends! But she is in grave danger, you see. I must find her!"

"How do you know this?" Lydia demanded.

"Does it matter? We are wasting precious time!"

"Look, I don't know where she went. Someones she just disappears for weeks, then she's back again like it never happened. I guess she slays dragons out there, and I'm left to wait for her." The Nord paused, watching Cicero, until at last she stood up and said, "But I am sworn to protect my Thane, so I will go with you."

A voice in his head told the jester he didn't have to do this alone.

"Then you may wish to pick up your bow," he said.

"I have a sword."

"Can you use it?"

"Yes." Lydia answered. And Cicero laughed.

"Ah, we must put that to the test someday," The assassin grinned hungrily.

Lydia very nearly regretted her decision.


End file.
